


The Perfect Excuse

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Enemy Lovers, Established Relationship, Eventual Romance, Feelings, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Rough Sex, Secret Crush, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Slash, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 15:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: '“I hate you,” he says, and it comes out as almost a sob as he wishes he did hate Izaya, because it would be so much easier if he did."Edited.





	The Perfect Excuse

Shizuo is shaking, literally shaking with rage.

“I hate you,” he says, and it comes out as almost a sob as he wishes he _did_ hate Izaya, because it would be so much easier if he did. “I hate you, I hate you.”

“You’re making too much noise,” Izaya replies, as leisurely as if he were strolling through a park, although he fists Shizuo's hair as he speaks. The noise of the railings beneath Izaya make far more noise than anything Shizuo is saying. He bites Izaya’s shoulder anyway to shut himself up, holding on like an animal, until Izaya cries out as he comes, and the increased pressure around Shizuo's cock brings on his own orgasm.

He stays inside Izaya, pressed against him against the wall. Izaya stays still, when he would have normally pushed Shizuo off or made a sneering, if slightly breathless, comment, but he is as silent as he is still. Shizuo wonders if he has hurt him.

He eases out of Izaya and pulls back slowly. It is only when Izaya’s feet drop to the ground with a metal thud that Shizuo realises he has been holding him up. They step away from each other and fix their clothes.

Izaya meets his eyes.

“Well, see you.”

And just like that he is gone. 

‘See you,’ though. It was almost amicable.

Shizuo goes home restless, even though he’d got what he wanted. It never felt right, ending the night like this. He always felt like they should go get some greasy noodles or something. 

He thinks back to his second time with Izaya, when he’d been so clumsy he’d broke the condom trying to get it on, and Izaya had glared at him and hissed, “Just do it anyway, i haven’t got a womb or aids,” and so Shizuo had pushed into him with a delicious moan, and didn’t bother going to the drugstore on the way home. These are his earliest memories with Izaya, their hatred as alive as ever.

Shizuo wants things to be different, but he puts off change every time. He’s always been a terrific procrastinator: assignments at school, his resolutions to quit smoking, the need to ask for a pay rise. So he thinks of asking for more every time he sees Izaya, but never actually does it. He reasons that they are having such a great time - for the sex _is_ great - that it would be a shame to spoil it by acting weird.

Part of the problem is also that he doesn’t know exactly what it is he wants. He can’t ask for drinks or dinner, when it clearly hasn’t crossed Izaya’s mind, without sounding needy. It would be so much easier if they bantered the way they used to, but they never banter when they fuck, its too intense, and these days they don’t see each other without fucking.

To compensate for not being able to express himself, Shizuo settles for getting better in bed. He’s terrified Izaya will get bored of him, so he wants to satisfy him better than anyone. He watches porn and Googles shady sex tips, feeling stupid and self-conscious and doing it anyway.

His brain explodes with the possibilities. He wonders if Izaya has any kinks. He likes to play rough, they both did, but that didn’t really count. Shizuo wonders if he’d like to be tied up and blindfolded, if _he’d_ like to tie someone up and blindfold them, if he’d ever been in a three-some, if he had some secret desires: watersports, cross-dressing, having sex in public, what kind of porn he watched, if he had any toys. Everyone had something. He wants to find Izaya's weakness and use it against him.

He never asks, but experimenting pays off: Izaya’s resulting moans are worth it.

-

“Are you sleeping with someone else?” 

“What?” Shizuo is so taken aback he nearly drops him. He has Izaya on his back in the wall of the latest building they'd found, the drop below them not fatal but clearly not comfortable. “Why are you asking me that? Are _you_ sleeping with someone else?” His chest hurts as he says it, both not wanting and needing to know.

“...no,” Izaya says, after long enough a beat to twist the knife in Shizuo’s heart. He does not sound malicious, though. He sounds thoughtful.

“Then why would you ask me that?”

“You seem different,” Izaya says. “You’re...trying new things. I wondered who you learnt them from.”

Shizuo colours, thinking of his web browser history.

Izaya shrugs, like he’s already bored of the subject.

“Let me down.”

Shizuo goes to, but something makes him pause.

“Why do you do this?”

  
“Why do I have sex?” Izaya drawls, deliberately misunderstanding. “I have a biological need and I only bat for one side of the fence.”

“Why do you have sex with me?”

“Why do you have sex with _me_?” Izaya counters, and Shizuo almost hates him, hates that he’s always this difficult.

“Because,” Shizuo says through grit teeth. “I like it.”

“I like it, too.”

Shizuo still hasn’t put him down. If anything his grip has tightened. Izaya narrows his eyes.

“Drop me and I’ll kill you.”

Shizuo lowers him to the ground, patronisingly gentle. Izaya gives a mocking little bow as he steps away. He then kicks Shizuo square in the chest, and the world flips as he goes over the wall and lands on his back. He can hear Izaya laughing at him.

“Have a good evening, Shizu-chan!”

He tells himself Izaya will have waited to see him move before skipping home, but knows in reality this is never going to happen, and tries to impress this memory and this warning into his brain.

-

He next sees Izaya by accident. The informant looks distant, preoccupied, and he actually jumps when Shizuo approaches him. Shizuo has never seen him jump before, same as he has never seen him get tired or catch a cold, despite how fragile he looks, and its an endearing bit of intimacy. But he mustn’t think like that.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Izaya says, wide eyed and confused as if a stranger were addressing him.

“Push me off the god damn roof.”

“Oh, that,” he says, laughing. “I don’t know. You throw things, I push you off things, we all have our challenges.”

Shizuo tries to grab his wrist as he moves away, but just like that the knife is out and he can’t be bothered.

“Forget it,” he snaps, and storms away.

“Forget what?” Izaya yells after him, but he doesn’t reply.

This isn’t a problem he knows how to deal with. He can’t even go to his brother or Celty and say, “I’m in a destructive relationship,” because he’s not in one, not really. He sees his building manager more than he sees Izaya.

He still has his good friend Google, of course.

_What do you do when you like someone who doesn’t like you back?_

_What do you do when you like someone who’s a dick?_

_What do you do when you like someone who’s all of the above?_

The internet depresses him.

He goes to sleep refusing to masturbate to the thought of Izaya.

-

He wakes up in the middle of the night, and masturbates to the thought of Izaya.

-

He has no warning when Izaya shows up at his house. No text, nothing to preempt this. It is a _good_ thing, the right step in the direction of his desire for more, but he wishes there weren’t dishes piled up in the sink and socks on his bedroom floor.

“Are you still mad at me for pushing you off the roof?” Izaya says, with no preamble. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking of mocking Shizuo’s home or its untidiness. He is staring right at him.

“...what?” Shizuo says, when he can speak.

“I thought I’d make it up to you.” He steps forward as he speaks and kisses Shizuo. He keeps moving as he does so, pushing Shizuo back into his apartment and kicking the door shut behind him. They keep going to the bedroom, and then Shizuo is on his back with Izaya straddling him, shirtless, in Shizuo’s home for the first time, and Shizuo’s heart is racing with how important this is.

Izaya laughs at him,.

“Why do you look so nervous?” he asks, running his hands up Shizuo’s sides. “Have you got another lover hidden in your closet?”

Shizuo swallows.

“Yeah, I keep a spare around.”

Izaya laughs, and the relief brings a warmth that relaxes Shizuo's muscles.

“That’s funny, Shizu-chan.”

This verbal pat on the head gives him confidence, so he’s able to relax and respond better. Until Izaya moves down his body and gives him much more than a pat on the head, and he loses all capacity to do anything.

Shizuo’s clumsy all night, the tips from his dirty magazines and internet porn sites long forgotten. He accidentally elbows Izaya in the face at one point, when he’s getting the lube, but the informant just laughs it off.

He falls to Shizuo’s side when he’s done, breathing hard.

 _Go to sleep_ , Shizuo wills him. _Just fall asleep here._

“I have to go,” Izaya says. He sits up and starts pulling on his clothes.

Shizuo lies there with his heart beating faster and faster, trying to think of something casual yet significant he can say that will make him change his mind, something that won’t sound wrong.

“See you,” Izaya says, like they’ve just had coffee, and lets himself out. It leaves Shizuo with a collapsed feeling in his chest.

_You can use the shower._

Why hadn’t he said that, at least? It was polite, practical, and likely to make Izaya comfortable here. He opens his eyes and wishes his laundry basket wasn’t overflowing. He can still hear his TV in the other room. He ignores it until it annoys him and gets up to turn it off.

-

Shizuo hadn’t noticed it at first, but Izaya speaks to him less now they sleep together. Shizuo doesn’t know what it means, if it’s a good thing, if Izaya getting less hostile, or if he’s getting bored, or contemptuous, or another 100 more likely reasons he can think of. Both the thought that it could be about to end and the hope he feels that it might not terrify him. It is like being in a room slowly running out of air. 

Perhaps Izaya thinks he is being kind. Perhaps he has become so isolated that he no longer knows how to talk to someone without mocking them. But this can’t be true. There must be people who like Izaya and who talk to him.

“What do you and Izaya talk about in Russian?” Shizuo asks Simon, when he’s next picking up Russia Sushi.

“We talk about whatever is on our minds at the time,” Simon tells him easily. “Izaya’s Russian is very good.”

Shizuo thinks he probably couldn’t ask for an example without sounding suspicious.

Shizuo’s eating moodily at the bar when in walks Izaya himself.

“Shizu-chan,” he greets, nodding to Simon and Dennis, slightly out of breath, and Shizuo feels his cock twitch, as Izaya is normally only out of breath when he’s underneath him. “I know we have this unspoken agreement to not be here at the same time, but I’m so hungry I’m gonna die. I need my fatty tuna.”

“It’s fine, do what you want,” Shizuo says, mumbling a bit. He becomes very interested in his food.

“Fatty tuna, please,” Izaya says to Simon, when he comes to take his order. “Please can you make it very quickly? I’ll pay whatever you want.”

“Yes Izaya, you can have fatty tuna, but it takes as long as it takes. The chefs have a system.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically, and says something else in Russian.

“That was ‘I appreciate it anyway,’” Simon translates for Shizuo’s benefit.

Izaya frowns at them both.

“Why are you telling him what I said?”

“Because he was asking- “

“I have to go,” Shizuo says abruptly, slamming the door on their conversation, even though the food is still warm on his plate. “Can I have the bill, please?”

They both stare at him. Izaya shrugs.

“I’ll eat in then, if he’s going.”

Shizuo’s fists clench.

Oblivious, Izaya waltzes off to the other end of the counter and sits on a stool, playing on his phone, swiveling himself with a jaunty foot.

Shizuo watches him moodily. He looks good with his hair the length he lets it get to just before he gets it cut. Izaya plays with it absently as he texts, probably thinking that it needed a trim.

Izaya is so perfect it isn’t fair. Shizuo doubts the informant has ever stood in the kitchen at 3am in his underwear, eating ice cream straight from the tub when he couldn’t sleep.

“I am sorry if I...put my foot in it,” Simon says to Shizuo.

“Forget it,” he mutters.

“You’re not really going, are you?”

Shizuo picks up his chopsticks in answer and tries to finish his food.

Izaya comes back after a few minutes, whining for his food.

“It’s coming, Izaya,” Simon says. He says something else, which presumeably meant ‘patience’ or ‘shut the hell up.’

Izaya glances at Shizuo’s full plate morosely.

“Have a dumpling if you want,” Shizuo hears himself saying. “I’m not going to finish them.”

Izaya stares at his plate for a moment like a hungry dog. Then he shakes his head.

“No thanks, I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t,” Shizuo repeats slowly. “What, are you scared you’ll get a disease from me or something?”

Izaya stares at him, confused.

“No? I…” he shakes his head. Apparently letting his stomach take over the decision making, he steals a pair of chopsticks from over the counter, sits in the neighbouring stool and takes a dumpling. He makes a little noise of satisfaction at finally having food in his mouth, not dissimilar to the one he makes when he comes.

“Thanks,” he says, when he’s swallowed. “Why aren’t you eating?”

Half of Shizuo’s food is still on his plate. He normally loves dumplings.

Shizuo goes to answer when Izaya lifts his head to the counter, face brightening.

“Thanks,” he crows, taking his food. “Stay,” he says to Shizuo, patting his arm. “I’ll go. Enjoy your food. Thanks for the dumpling.”

Shizuo sighs, wondering where Izaya would take his food. It is freezing outside, and Russia Sushi is practically empty. The whole thing was so stupid.

He goes home to bed, and has a nightmare that Izaya is laughing and laughing at him for some unknown reason, and takes no notice when Shizuo begs him to stop. Another warning.

-

_Can I see you?_

Shizuo sends this one night when he’s sick of himself and his thought patterns. He’s decided that Izaya can either

A) Laugh at him  
B) Pretend to feel the same way for a little while before ultimately hurting and humilating him  
C) Do neither of the above/something completely different

His reply comes moments later.

_Sure._

Shizuo stares at it, half relieved, half annoyed. Was he supposed to text him back?

His phone goes off again while he’s still deciding.

_Where?_

Shizuo sits up, trying to think. This is what he gets for not having a plan.

_Your place?_

_OK. I’ll be home in an hour._

An hour. This gives Shizuo just enough time to shower and get to Izaya’s without overthinking anything. Another text is waiting for him after he’s towelled off.

_...an hour and 20, sorry._

Shizuo experiences a thrill as if he were reading a dirty text. This is civil, this is progress. He hurriedly composes hjis own reply.

_It’s OK, I haven’t left yet._

-

Izaya still hasn’t cut his hair, to Shizuo’s delight. He answers the door in his usual black clothes and bare feet.

“This is a nice surprise.”

“It is?” Shizuo says cautiously, removing his own shoes.

“Sure. It’s getting too cold to do it outside.”

Shizuo’s struck by how blindingly obvious this is, that he could have asked Izaya over or come to his place weeks ago. Winter. The perfect excuse. For once in his life, Shizuo hopes it is a long and brutal one.

Izaya sees Shizuo keep glancing at his hair and fingers it self-consciously.

“Your hair looks good that length,” Shizuo tells him.

“...what?” Izaya frowns, looking confused.

Shizuo gives him a playful push.

“Why do you always make me repeat myself, Izaya-kun?”

“Because I think I misheard you?” Izaya says, gabbling a bit, and Shizuo kisses him to make him forget about it.

-

Shizuo loves Izaya's legs. Sometimes he goes down on him just so he can play with his legs, running his hands up and down the soft hair, feeling his bones, holding the backs of his knees, kissing the delicate arch of a foot.

"You're weird," Izaya tells him, shivering.

"You're hard as a rock, so don't get mouthy."

Izaya laughs, and it comes out shaky and afraid. He reaches down and hauls Shizuo up to kiss him. They kiss a lot more lately.

-

Izaya’s bed is nice. The building is so high Shizuo can see nothing but sky out the window from here and the occasional plane, too high up to disturb them with noise.

“Your bed’s nice,” Shizuo tells him.

“Uh huh,” Izaya says sleepily.

Shizuo plans to let Izaya fall asleep first, to cuddle up to him in his sleep, but he doesn’t quite manage it: the last thing he is aware of is Izaya’s peaceful form still inches away from his own.

-

He doesn’t wake up first either: Izaya is already shifting around when he opens his eyes. The informant sits up in bed and stretches, sheets pooling around his waist. He rubs his eyes with both hands like a little kid, and runs his fingers through his hair. He sees Shizuo looking at him and smiles.

“Want some food?”

“Sure.”

“What do you want?”

“Huh? Oh, anything, I’m easy.”

They have yoghurt and berries. Shizuo especially appreciates the berries. He normally couldn’t afford fruit.

-

He dreams of Izaya when he’s back in his own bed. They are at his brother’s wedding: he is best man, Kasuka and Ruri are saying their vows, and Izaya is jerking him off in a hidden corner.

“I have to go, I have their rings,” Shizuo gasps.

“Shh,” Izaya says, and nips his ear.

Shizuo’s brother is calling him. So are the other wedding guests.

“I want to marry you,” he says to Izaya.

“Shh,” Izaya says again, and Shizuo comes so violently he wakes himself up.

He shakes his head at his own depravity. Jesus.

He needs to say something to Izaya. Not ‘I love you,’ because he doesn’t, he doens’t even know him that well, just ‘I’m starting to like you a lot’ or even just ‘I want to spend more time with you.’

He can demonise Izaya all he wants in his head, but the reality is he has seen Izaya stick up for the bullied, seen him walk his sisters to school, and never done anything that terrible. It would be so much easier if he had.

-

Izaya gets his hair cut, but he doesn’t have as much off as he normally does. Shizuo ruffles it when he sees it, and Izaya smiles like he is immensely pleased with himself.

That night, Shizuo finally succeeds in staying awake longer than Izaya. He still waits, carefully counting out Izaya’s breaths before edging nearer, easing forward to slot his knees into the back of Izaya’s, his arms going round him, the silky hair tickling his cheek.

Izaya doesn’t comment when he wakes up in Shizuo’s arms, nor when it happens again. He gets into his arms of his own accord one night, when they are both wide awake but not about to have sex. Shizuo runs a hand through his hair, and Izaya goes still as if to not scare him away.

Shizuo still hasn’t said anything, but he’s starting to think he won’t have to.


End file.
